In my life, have I ever died? Did I come back?
I can say that I’ve not had that experience.
Nor do I know another who’s done such a trick.
People come up with stories, then lay it on thick
To all ears that will hear them at their own expense
When their weak minds are susceptible to attack.
Have I ever met someone supposedly dead –
An ethereal wisp of a faint silhouette…
Or a form of some essence apparently true?
If I heard voices, folks would ask, “What’s Wrong With You?”
So, I’d never admit that. I’d have deep regret
If the dead spoke to me and I heard what they said.
I have not seen or met one beyond the doornail
Nor has anyone else with feet flat on the ground.
It takes imagination, special connection,
Or some measure of both before faith has begun
To depart from reality where all is bound
By the strict laws of physics that always prevail.
So, where does this idea come from that I’ll die?
The nonsequitur notion is fiction at best
Created by the limited view I allow.
There is life after life in the eternal now.
I shall not be accustomed to being at rest.
Death is merely a fairytale most will deny.
